


Everything's Made Up and the Points Don't Matter

by readmewriter



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Desk Sex, Exhibitionism, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Reader Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 07:34:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9538073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readmewriter/pseuds/readmewriter
Summary: Inspired by that one part with the puppet in On the Spot #82. But without a puppet.Reader insert, implied female reader.----“I can’t believe you put me up to this,” Jon says, glancing back at you with a twinkle in his eye that clearly says he isn’t really as scandalized as he’s pretending to be. “Aren’t you supposed to be the good one in this relationship?”“I’m not an angel,” you reply. “Would an angel let herself be tied up for kinky sex on a regular basis?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> I live for comments and love prompts for more reader inserts, so come see me at https://readmewriter.tumblr.com/

Jon shushes you as you can’t help but giggle at what the two of you are doing. Sneaking through sets after most of the company is gone isn’t a usual pastime of yours, but you’re thinking it could get to become a regular one.

“I can’t believe you put me up to this,” Jon says, glancing back at you with a twinkle in his eye that clearly says he isn’t really as scandalized as he’s pretending to be. “Aren’t you supposed to be the good one in this relationship?”

“I’m not an angel,” you reply. “Would an angel let herself be tied up for kinky sex on a regular basis?”

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” Jon stops and you nearly run into his back. “Oh no, wait, you clawed your way up from Hell, I forgot.”

You poke at his side, pinching a little of the skin there just to get him to squirm. “You want a blowjob or not?”

“Well, I mean, we’re already _here_ so at this point you might as well.”

You peek around Jon, and there it is – the dark On the Spot set, and there, smack dab in the middle, sits Jon’s desk.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jon asks you, for what is probably the hundredth time.

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “I mean, we’re already _here_ ,” you parrot back at him, and then add, “And honestly, I’ll be under the desk anyway, so if anyone comes by it’s you they’ll see first.”

Jon nods a little at that. “I’m sure worse has happened in Achievement Hunter.”

“I _guarantee_ worse has happened in Achievement Hunter,” you mutter. “Have you met Geoff and Gavin?”

“I have,” Jon says in agreement, looking around like he’s trying to make sure the coast is clear. “Come on, if we’re doing this, let’s do it.”

He grabs your hand in his and the two of you sneak onto the set like you’re expecting the lights to come on at any moment or someone to jump out with a camera or something. You can barely hold back your amused giggles at this point (it’s not even laughter, it’s full on giggles).

But then, you reach the desk, and Jon sits down and pushes the chair back and away from it, giving you room. He looks up at you and _oh_ , there it is, the feeling of wanting to buckle for him, wanting to do exactly as he says, wanting to please him.

You must hesitate a second too long, pinned by his sparkling blue gaze, because he raises an eyebrow at you. “Gonna chicken out now?”

“Again, I’m the one under the desk, out of sight.”

A grin curls on his lips. “Not yet, you aren’t.”

You drop to your knees, reveling briefly in the way that his eyes go dark and a little hooded. His gaze doesn’t leave you, though, tracks you even as you slip beneath the desk and situate yourself between his thighs.

When you look up at him, he’s still got that little half smile on his face, all cool and casual confidence, like he knows he’s got a handle on you. And the truth is – he does.

“Your move,” you say. “What’s the name of the game, Jon?”

His eyes narrow a little, and one of his hands finds the top of your head, drifting down to curl around the back of your neck. “That’s not what you call me,” he says, voice gone soft and low.

 _Oh_ , again, and you loved it when he got like this, commanding and in control.

“What’s the name of the game, sir?” you try again, still a little cheeky, and Jon grins at you.

“This is the redemption challenge,” he says, hands leaving your head to go to the fly of his jeans. “You redeem yourself and we’ll play another game when you’re done.”

That’s enticing, to say the least. It’s even better when Jon gets his fly open, pulls his cock out, and you can finally get your mouth on him. You keep your eyes on him, watching as he regards you with nothing short of pure love for a moment. Then, the confident look is back on his face as he nods, pets through your hair, and leans back in the chair.

Then he does the thing. The one that started this whole mess, that gave you the idea in the first place (this time without a puppet at least). He raises his arms, shakes his sleeves down, and folds them behind his head, like he’s just there to be _worshipped_ , like he knows you’ll do exactly what you’re supposed to and get him off. You moan a little around the cock in your mouth, and watch as he smirks, eyes closed. He knows exactly what he’s doing too, the bastard.

After this long together, you know what Jon likes. You know how to get him off in the quickest ways, the things that set him off sooner than others. You don’t want to use any of that, you want this to be _languid_ , drawn-out, until your jaw is aching and Jon is desperate for it. However, there’s a chance that someone will walk by at any moment, so you settle for a compromise – teasing licks, and a deft hand working his cock just the way you know he likes.

Jon hums, rolls his head and looks down at you.

“Don’t tease,” he says, one hand coming down from behind his head to curl in your hair, pushing you forward onto his cock. “I want your mouth, not your hand.”

It’s an idea you can get behind, so you take your hand away, fingers wiggling at him, and curl them around his calf instead, letting him gently bob your head for you.

That’s when you hear the footsteps.

You jump, starting to pull away, but Jon holds you fast. He glances down at you, a wicked gleam in his eyes, before rolling the chair closer to the desk so that you’re even more well-hidden than before.

Ah well, you think, it’s not the first time you’ve ever been caught in a compromising position on company property before. Probably won’t be the last.

You tuck your feet underneath you so they won’t stick out from under the desk either, and keep quietly tonguing the hard velvet of Jon’s cock in your mouth, glancing up. There’s not a lot you can see of him now, but he’s still got one hand in your hair, the other, no doubt resting on the desk.

The footsteps draw closer, and your heart pounds. “Oh, hey, Jon.” You can’t even tell who that _is_. “What are you doing here so late?”

“Hey,” Jon says, and the bastard manages to sound _even_ , like he’s not getting blowjob from under the desk while he’s talking to a random person he apparently knows. “I’m just… thinking about what I want to do for next time.”

“In the dark?” The voice sounds skeptical.

You choose that moment to start moving your head again, slowly. Jon’s hand tightens in your hair, dragging you down his cock.

“It’s… quiet here,” Jon manages, like he’s not practically choking you on his cock while you _love_ it.

“It is that,” the voice agrees. “You do you, buddy.”

And then the footsteps recede, and Jon’s backing up, pulling you off and away, hand in your hair tilting your head back to look up at him.

“I swear to God,” Jon breathes, “you’re gonna _kill_ me one day, you know that?”

“Did I redeem myself?” you ask, because the idea of you getting fucked on that desk is a damn good one, if you do say so yourself.

“Not yet,” Jon says, and guides you back down.

It’s quick, after that, like the idea that someone could walk by you, _did_ walk by and _didn’t see a goddamn thing_ is heady and intense. You put everything you have into it – you’ve always known you’re both a little bit of an exhibitionist, but this just fucking proves it – and finally, _finally_ Jon is rolling his hips, holding your hair, and looking down at you with blue eyes gone dark and almost predatory.

“Just like that, Jesus,” Jon says, breathing out the words. “God, you’re so good, you’re gonna take it all, aren’t you? Everything I give you?”

You nod as best as you can, and then he’s coming, the hot rush of it filling your mouth, and you swallow as best as you can. After, you give him a moment, let him catch his breath while you rest your head on his thigh. Your jaw is aching a little, just like you wanted, and you lift a hand to rub at it with a smug little something curling up in your belly.

Then Jon’s rolling the chair back, hands reaching down to pull you out from under the desk. He helps you to your feet, standing himself, and then gives you a gentle shove so that you land in the chair.

“New game,” he says, and drops to his knees. You know that, even there, he’s still fully in control. “Let’s play Cunning Linguistics.”


End file.
